


milos tapes

by octopodian



Category: Tribe Twelve
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Referenced suicide, kinda artsy but milo dealing with his trauma and also being like how tf am I alive, milos tapes but it's from his pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 21:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16127210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopodian/pseuds/octopodian
Summary: Milo wakes up.His first thought: huh, I'm alive.His second: holy fucking shit, everything hurts.





	milos tapes

Milo wakes up.  
  
His first thought: huh, I'm alive.  
  
His second: holy fucking shit, everything hurts.  
  
As the fog fades from his head and he can think more clearly, he looks at this logically. Not only did he down a very potent amount of Prozac, but his throat is jaggedly slit: not even bleeding, just... Open. Raw.

He should definitely be dead, but he isn't. Not yet.  
  
(He notices, shuddering, that his breath exhales partially through his neck instead of his mouth.)  
  
Hes filming. Fuck it, maybe someone will find it someday. They'll make a decent yet forgettable movie with the words "based on a true story!" slapped on the top. Some mediocre true crime podcast will cover him, go over the theories (aliens, ghosts, alien ghosts, suicide), and after that he'll be forgotten.  
  
He reigns that train of thought back in.

He makes a list of what he knows:

One: he's not dead yet.

Two: he should be.

.

His hands are shaking.  
  
Kill Mary or we kill you. The final  ultimatum. End of the line.  
  
It isn't even a choice. He's never taking another bullet for her. 

(His body shakes. He's pretty sure he has a fever.)

He crawls out of the house once the sun finishes setting. In rural Alabama, people know to mind their own business and not look too close. He makes the phone call, grabs the gun from the briefcase, and waits.  
  
He thinks about what he's going to say; how to make her feel sorry for every horrible thing she's ever done: drugging him, hitting him, using him as a human pawn, touching him like that as a kid... He grits his teeth and shoves it down.  
  
He updates his list.

One: he isn't dead yet.

Two: Mary will be.  
  
.  
  
Mary's voice makes him nauseous. It's sickly sweet, like sugar in a wound. Milo, sweetie. Milo, baby. We can talk this out. Anything to get the upper hand.  
  
(He almost falls for it. Almost cries, almost begs for forgiveness like the scared little kid who saw a monster under his bed that he's been running from his entire life.  
  
Almost.)  
  
"Milo, honey, we can talk this out! I-I still don't know things that could help kill Mr. Slim, or who Mr. Scars is!”  
  
Oh, you don't know something for once? That's a first!

The bitterness and pain flows through him like electricity: it stings, burning away inhibitions that have held him back his entire life.  
  
"Well, I’ve got news for you, mom. I'm Mr Scars."  
  
Bang.  
  
Milo isn’t dead yet.

She is.

Even as the energy leaves his body, as his hands go numb and his tears dry up, as Mary's body disappears like all of them do, he keeps repeating it.

He's not dead yet.

The man appears again. Milo doesn't bother fighting.

He's not dead yet.

The world slips back into darkness.

He’s not dead yet.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this on my phone during a romcom im doing lights for so if it sounds dramatic it's bc im a theatre kid


End file.
